Defective Banana - Chapter 3
Ara stared at him, dumbfounded by his sudden move.
“Could you get your hand off my door?”
But instead of letting go, Seohyuk stood his ground, his tone shifting from how he’d spoken in front of the fridge to something surprisingly polite.
“I didn’t get the chance to apologize properly earlier. I’m really sorry about that.”
Ara narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. Didn’t get the chance? More like he hadn’t bothered at all.
“Mm, yeah. Okay.”
She tried to shut the door again, but he kept it wedged open with his palm and spoke up once more.
“Excuse me, but… do you mind telling me what perfume you use?”
He’d come to his own conclusion — the only explanation for his body’s reaction had to be her scent. If that was really it, maybe he could carry that scent with him, break through his trauma, and live the rest of his life like a normal man. Maybe he could finally accept one of those romance roles his fans were so desperate to see him in.
Clinging to that hopeful thought, Seohyuk waited for her answer like a man on trial. Ara squinted at him, her face twisting in disbelief before she gave him a flat reply.
“I don’t wear perfume.”
What? There had to have been a scent. Seohyuk scratched his jaw and fired another question.
“Then… what shampoo do you use?”
“Why do you keep asking about that?”
He was certain — the scent from her hair must have triggered it. There was no other logical reason. He had to know.
“Your scent is just… really nice. I’m really curious. Could you tell me, just as neighbors?”
Ara rolled her eyes so hard they practically clinked. But with a resigned sigh, she parted her lips.
“Fine. Wait here.”
She disappeared inside with the crab box. A minute later, she reappeared, holding out an entire bottle of shampoo. She didn’t care enough to keep it for herself — it was Donghee’s son anyway. If her beloved Donghee wanted him to have it, so be it.
“I’ve got another one. You can have this.”
“You’re giving this to me?”
“It’s nothing. Just use it with your mom. Thanks for the crab.”
Seohyuk accepted the bottle with both hands, turning it over and over like he was studying an ancient artifact. It wasn’t like she’d handed him poison — what was he inspecting it for?
Ara watched him with thinly veiled annoyance and cut him off before he could drag things out.
“Okay. Bye now.”
Before he could say another word, she shut the door with a decisive slam. Left alone in the empty hallway, Seohyuk stared down at the shampoo bottle for a long moment, reading the label like it might solve his life’s mysteries — until he snapped out of it and hurried back to his own place.
The moment he got back, he all but flung himself onto the couch. He popped the cap open with a click, brought it right under his nose, and took a long whiff. Then, holding his breath, he tugged at the waistband of his shorts and peeked down at himself.
A few seconds passed. Seohyuk’s brow furrowed. His shoulders slumped as he let the waistband snap back and tossed the shampoo onto the table.
“Ah, for fvck’s sake!”
The bastard between his legs lay there like a dead fish, utterly unbothered. Seohyuk glared at it like it had betrayed him.
“Seriously? If it’s not the scent, then what the hell is it?”
He ripped off his cap and dragged his hands roughly over his face. For a while, he sat there, teeth grit, fighting the frustration boiling up inside him. Then he leaned back against the couch, eyes squeezed shut.
It was the first time in his life he’d gotten hard because of someone else. He replayed every moment, hunting for the answer. She’d bumped into him — he’d smelled something nice — he’d looked into those light brown eyes — and then… she’d slapped him.
His eyes flew open.
“Wait… did I get turned on because she hit me?”
He slowly lowered his gaze, staring down at himself in disbelief.
“Are you serious right now? Are you out of your mind? Is this what we’re doing now?”
***
The next evening, Donghee rolled back into the house, dragging her suitcase behind her.
“Kang Seohyuk, Mom’s home!”
Hearing her voice, Seohyuk came striding out, hands planted firmly on his hips, speaking with deadly seriousness.
“Kim Yeosa. Hit me once.”
“…What?”
Donghee blinked at him, convinced she’d heard him wrong.
“Hit me. Just once.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
Standing there like a soldier bracing for impact, Seohyuk explained, voice oddly calm.
“I’ve been too careless lately. I think getting hit will help clear my head. So just once — hit me.”
“Did you eat something weird while I was gone? You show up after months, and that’s the first thing you say to your mother?”
Annoyance flashed across Donghee’s face. She let go of her suitcase and smacked him square on the back.
Whack. Whack.
“Ah! Ow! I said ONCE! Ow! Damn, you’ve still got the strength of a woman who’ll live to a hundred! Ow!”
Rubbing his stinging back, Seohyuk glanced down at himself, half-expecting a miracle. Nothing. He sighed, then angled his left cheek at her.
“Okay. Hit me in the face. Just once. Not too hard.”
“Have you lost your damn mind?”
Donghee slapped him across the face with a sharp smack. Seohyuk’s eyes darted down between his legs — still dead quiet. He shoved his hair back in frustration and muttered under his breath.
“That’s not it. If it’s not that either, then what is it? This is driving me insane.”
Donghee just stared at him, clapping her hands in front of his face to snap him out of it.
“Hey! Kid! What is wrong with you? Did you actually lose it while I was gone?”
“There’s just… stuff. Don’t worry about it.”
Dropping the solemn act, Seohyuk threw his arms around her shoulders in an awkward hug.
“So how was your trip to Gangwon? Who’d you run off with this time, huh?”
Donghee shrugged him off and dragged her suitcase past him like she couldn’t be bothered.
“No ‘who.’ Move. I’m tired.”
“Hey, Kim Yeosa, come on, we haven’t seen each other in forever—”
Donghee tossed her purse aside and vanished into the bathroom. When she emerged, she plopped down on the bed and started unpacking her suitcase. Once she was done, she flopped onto the mattress with a groan and called out through the open door.
“Hey! I’m going to sleep first!”
“Dinner?”
“Order something. Or eat the crab. Figure it out.”
“You’re just gonna sleep when I’m here?”
“Didn’t you say you’re staying a few days? I’m exhausted. Don’t talk to me. I’m going to sleep.”
“Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow. Rest up.”
Seohyuk skipped dinner and sat on the living room couch, deep in thought.
Fact one: He got hard because of the neighbor.
Fact two: It wasn’t the shampoo.
Fact three: He seemed to get hard after she hit him.
Fact four: Kim Yeosa’s hits didn’t do anything. Maybe because she was family.
No matter how he looked at it, the answer lay with the woman next door. He’d have to see her again and figure this out properly, once and for all.
Decision made, he shot up and strode into the kitchen. He needed another excuse — something to take over to her place. He rummaged through cabinets and shelves until his eyes landed on the stash of wine bottles lined up on one rack.
A grin tugged at his lips. He’d promoted this wine in a spring ad — it tasted good, too. She’d probably like it.
Tucking the bottle under his arm, Seohyuk pulled his black cap back down low over his eyes. Shoulders squared, face set like he was stepping onto a movie set, he marched out of his apartment once more.
***
Ding dong.
— “Who is it?”
“Ahem. It’s me. The guy next door.”
Even through the tiny speaker, Ara’s voice came sharp and suspicious.
— “Why are you here at this hour?”
“I wanted to thank you for the shampoo. So… I brought you this.”
He held the wine bottle right up to the door camera. But her answer hit him like a slap.
— “No, thank you. I don’t want it.”
She said it like she was rejecting a sales pitch — No thanks, not buying. The cold finality of it made Seohyuk’s eyebrow twitch, but he couldn’t back down now. He scrambled for another angle.
“Actually… it’s about my mom. I have something to discuss.”
At that, Ara’s voice lost a bit of its edge.
“Donghee? Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
Ara hesitated for a moment, scratching her cheek as she mulled it over. Then she gave in with a sigh.
“…Fine. Hold on.”
She stepped out a moment later, wearing a loose hoodie thrown over her tank top, eyeing him with thin suspicion. He still had his black cap pulled so low it hid half his face.